CHAPTER FOURTEEN

There was no sun that day. The clouds, low and grey and ominous, blanketed the sky and kept the light away from the world of the Clans. Hail pellets as hard as rocks fell from the sky, whipped by the blustering wind at the helpless cats below. The weather was miserable, and Thickfur wanted nothing more than to curl up in his den and sleep until newleaf, but he dragged himself through the forest, through the ever-climbing snow, to the ShadowClan border. He needed know if the branch had moved. He was desperate for a sign, a hint, anything at all. The hope that burned in his chest was slowly being extinguished, but he knew he would drag himself to this spot no matter what, even if he was nothing more then ragged scraps of fur overlying frozen bones.

He made his way out of the camp with relative ease. The snow on the slope was hard and firm, packed down by countless pawsteps. Once out in the forest, it was clear the snow was not as stable as it looked. Thickfur found himself breaking the icy crust and plummeting into the chilling drifts. Droplets of snow melted on his skin and turned his fur into an itchy mess. He grumbled to himself, silently cursing StarClan every time he had to manoeuvre his way out of a snowy trap. Finally, he found solid ground beneath his paws. The forest was treacherous today. He wondered if it was a sign – he was betraying his Clan by meeting with Sootclaw in secret. Perhaps the difficulty of his journey was a reflection on that. Karma. He deserved it. Guilt hit him once again and he shoved it down, sick of emotions. He had promised himself no more of those.

When he arrived at the ShadowClan border, it was hard it make anything out. The clearing was covered in a fine layer of snow. Thickfur narrowed his amber eyes. Whose mouse-brained idea was it to use a white branch as the symbol? Of course a ShadowClan cat would think of that. He snorted and moved closer to the border, searching the ground for any hint of bark.

There. His eyes caught on something. A piece of snow darker than the rest, and ridged, dappled by darker spots. A branch. His chest tightened. His heart leapt into his throat. He forced it down and swallowed his anxiety away. He had to be calm about this. Calm and rational. His usual self. Not this strange, emotional being he had recently become.

Thickfur padded toward the branch, and as he did so, noticed something odd. There wasn't just one branch, but two, no three, no – four! Why would Sootclaw set out four branches instead of the one that they agreed upon? What was the ShadowClan warrior trying to tell him? Was this message something urgent, something that he needed to know right away? He hesitated. He wanted to wait around, to see if Sootclaw showed up, but what if he was seen by a ShadowClan patrol? Thickfur sighed and dug his claws into the snow. It was a risk he was going to have to take.

He sat there, and he waited.

It was only just past sunrise, after all. He could at least wait until sunhigh without arousing any suspicion from his Clanmates. He would say he had been hunting, if anyone noticed his absence. Sighing, Thickfur curled his tail around his paws and sat still as a rock, waiting – no, hoping – that Sootclaw would appear.

He drank in the scents of the forest. The air was cold, the kind of bitter chill that scalded the inside of his mouth and nostrils. ShadowClan scent was strong here, acrid and tangy, though he had become somewhat more accustomed to it in the past moon. Above him, a lone bird sang a soft, sad melody. He raised his amber eyes and saw it take off from a nearby branch, now nothing more than a dark silhouette across the carbon sky.

Despite his dense fur and layers of muscle, the tom shivered. The cold was infiltrating, seeping underneath his pelt to chill him to the bone. The cool fear that was wrapped around his chest didn't help either. He shuffled his paws, trying to keep warm. He didn't want to make too much noise and draw attention to himself. Where he was now, Thickfur was hidden behind the twisting branches of a thorn bush. No cat would notice him unless they were looking.

Pellets of snow continued to whip at him. Thickfur tried to think of something else, anything to distract him from the tedious wait. His mind drifted to recent events within the Clan: the loners, for one. He had known they were trouble from the very beginning. With the arrival of Flynn and the threat of a battle looming – the injustice of it all made him grit his teeth. Slatestar was risking Dawnpaw's safety, not to mention the safety of the rest of ThunderClan, to protect some loner who had lied to them! He understood why Slatestar had done it, of course. His father was an honourable cat. That, however, didn't make the truth any easier to swallow. Thickfur would spend the battle outside the medicine cat's den. A stab of guilt hit him. He should be helping his Clan prepare for the battle, not lurking by the ShadowClan border.

But this was more important. The guilt was starting to eat at him and he shoved it aside. Thickfur was no good with dealing with guilt. He hadn't been as a kit, when his mother... well, when all of that had happened, and he wasn't good at dealing with it now. He closed his eyes and saw his mother's face clearly in his mind, as if it had been just yesterday. I'm sorry. He had stopped saying it out loud long ago. It didn't change anything. It never would.

Thickfur extended his claws and began to churn the snow below him. He would rather think about the hail assaulting him than bring those memories to mind. He forced himself to thick of other things, mundane things.

Where are you, Sootclaw? He hoped he wasn't making a mistake by waiting. Dawnpaw's face flashed in his mind, humiliated, ashamed, angry. Thickfur bowed his head. He was doing this for her. It was his duty to protect her, after all. It was duty, nothing more.

Come on. Thickfur needed to know what those branches meant.

x x x

The whole Clan was preparing for the battle. Slatestar's strategy was simple: they would force the rogues to come down the main slope, and then they would trap them in a bottleneck. Cats were hard at work at the top of the quarry, blocking off all other entrances to the camp, most notably the small trail that led behind the medicine cat's den. They were also adding debris to the main entrance, so the rogues would be forced to come only one or two at a time.

As far as plans went, it wasn't bad.

Kitetail watched from his den. He was instructing two of the apprentices, Galepaw and Mousepaw, on how to make poultices and other remedies for injured cats. They were helping him prepare a stock in case the battle didn't go as planned. The siblings were more helpful than he had expected. Galepaw was shaping up to be a fine warrior. The off-white tom had a stoic air, but there was a keen willingness to learn shining in his eyes. Mousepaw was more nervous, but the she-cat was intelligent, and talkative once you pushed through her shell.

Looking out in the clearing, he saw Slatestar pad through the moss curtain and into his den. Kitetail froze for a moment. He needed to talk to the leader desperately. He needed to understand Slatestar's decision. He knew others in the Clan were questioning it as well, but they would never disobey one of Slatestar's orders. Or would they? His gaze flickered to Beechclaw, who was grudgingly constructing a barrier by the elder's den. The brown tabby didn't look happy.

"Wait here," he told the apprentices, "and keep working, you're both doing a great job."

Galepaw flicked his tail obligingly. "Yes, Kitetail. Thanks!"

Kitetail padded out of his den and almost immediately regretted his decision when the harsh cold overtook him. It had been warm inside his den, with the body heat of four cats, though Dawnpaw didn't contribute much. Here it was freezing. Luckily the hail had died down since the morning. It was almost sunhigh now, and though the sky was as grey as ever, the snow had cleared.

He approached Slatestar's den and coughed nervously. "Slatestar?"

"Come in," said the tom in his customary rumble.

Kitetail pushed the moss curtain aside and padded into the crevice. Slatestar was curled up in his nest, picking apart a scrawny starling. The medicine cat guessed that was the first thing the tom had eaten in days. Prey was scarce and Slatestar always put the Clan first, making sure everyone else got to eat before he took his share.

"What is it?" asked Slatestar calmly.

"I came to talk to you about Alder," said Kitetail quickly. The brown tabby cursed internally. He was rushing his words. Slatestar could probably tell he was nervous. Medicine cats weren't supposed to be nervous. They were supposed to be calm, composed.

"Kitetail..." said Slatestar, with a sigh. He looked up and met the medicine cat's eyes with his own, his gaze sharp and yellow. "I've made my choice."

"I know," said Kitetail, again more quickly than he had intended. "That's not what I wanted to talk to you about it. I'm not here to try and change your mind." He thought of his conversation with Alder last night and winced. He wanted to hate the loner, but couldn't. He was infuriated by him, but there was another emotion there. Perhaps... no, not pity. It couldn't be pity. Why would he feel that way about Alder?

Slatestar nodded. "Continue then."

"I'm just..." Kitetail took a deep breath. "I'm just curious as to why you made that decision. You made it so quickly."

"I'm not happy about it," said Slatestar softly. "If I could go back in time, I would turn them away. I accepted them because... I thought StarClan had something to do with it. I thought they could help with hunting, and with WindClan, if anything went wrong. You know ThunderClan does not turn away cats in need."

"I know," said Kitetail again. "You don't need to justify your decisions to me."

"No, I don't," mewed Slatestar, but there was no sharpness in his words. "But as it happened, I did grant them shelter here. I offered them our protection – my protection. I can't just take that away. Alder would have been killed if I had given him up. Don't get me wrong, Kitetail – I don't value his life over any cat of ThunderClan's. But I had to do the honourable thing. In effect, I didn't have a choice."

"Alder put you in an impossible situation," mewed Kitetail.

"I don't like it, and I don't like him," said Slatestar. "But there's nothing else I can do. Once the battle with the rogues is over, we can deal with Alder and his little band."

Kitetail nodded. That made sense. He understood it, even if he didn't like it. He only hoped that the others understood it as well. His mind flashed to Beechclaw and he swallowed nervously. Beechclaw wasn't a bad cat, but his kits were his first priority. It was understandable. Kitetail wondered if anyone had tried to tell him that his Clan was more important than his kits. It probably wouldn't go over very well.

He didn't want to mistrust the tom, but his gut instinct was telling him to keep an eye on the light brown warrior.

"What does Nettleclaw think of this?" he asked, trying to forget about Beechclaw.

Slatestar shrugged. "Nettleclaw hates it just as much as I do. But he understands it better than anyone, I think. We have a duty to these loners."

A reluctant duty. Kitetail swallowed. "Aren't you worried that others in the Clan... they might just let the rogues at Alder, when they come?"

Slatestar shook his head. "If they do, then they're a traitor. ThunderClan is an honourable Clan, and I trust all of my warriors with my life. I don't doubt them for a second."

Before Kitetail could think of something to say to that, the moss curtain and Thickfur burst in, his eyes wide. There was a wild look to him, a hint of desperation. He was panting, as if he had just run a great distance. Flakes of snow coated his thick tabby pelt. He took a gulp of air and then paused, as if he had just realized he had interrupted their conversation.

Slatestar narrowed his eyes. "Thickfur, are you alright? What are you doing? I'm talking to Kitetail right now."

"I'm sorry Slatestar," said Thickfur apologetically. "There's something urgent I need to tell you."

"It's alright," said Kitetail quickly. "That's all I wanted to talk about, Slatestar."

"Fine," mewed Slatestar firmly. "Kitetail, if you want to head back to your work..."

Thickfur's composure had slipped back on. He had calmed down considerably now, and his harsh air was back. "Actually," he said, words strangely biting, "I think it would be better if Kitetail stayed."

"Oh. Okay." Kitetail wasn't sure what to think. He moved back to give more room to the grey tom and curled his tail over his paws. He was nervous now. Something must be seriously wrong to rattle the tabby warrior.

Slatestar nodded to his son. "What is it?"

Thickfur took a deep breath. "You know how WindClan has been acting strange recently?"

"Who doesn't?" asked Slatestar wryly.

"I was just at their border – I ended up there while I was hunting," continued Thickfur. "I overheard a pair of warriors. They're – they're going to attack, Slatestar. That's what the silence has been about. They were planning an attack on us all this time. They were just biding their time."

Oh. This was definitely not good. A wild surge of panic gripped Kitetail and he fought it down. Shuffling his paws nervously, the tom frowned. "Are you sure?"

Slatestar glanced between the two of them. "You're completely confident about this, Thickfur?"

The grey tabby nodded. "I'd bet my life on it."

"Alright," said Slatestar, taking charge of the situation. "Do you know when this attack is?"

Thickfur nodded. "You won't like it. It's on the same night as the rogues are attacking."

That took Kitetail's breath away. On the list of things that weren't good, that was near the top. "That's not... that's horrible."

"Actually," said Slatestar, eyes glinting, "that's very, very good. I have a plan."

As Slatestar outlined the details of his idea, Kitetail couldn't help but look over Thickfur. He believed the broad-shouldered warrior about the WindClan attack. He could tell by Thickfur's words that there was no doubt in his mind. Yet something about his story seemed strangely off. Slatestar hadn't noticed it, but Kitetail couldn't shake the creeping feeling that Thickfur was lying.

.

Slatestar called a meeting to inform ThunderClan of their change in plans. Cats gathered around him curiously. Kitetail watched from the medicine cat, half-heartedly rolling the poultices as he listened to Slatestar's speech. He would have to make the herbs to travel somehow. Rolling them up in a broad leaf, perhaps. That was what Birchcloud had always done. Kitetail did it sometimes when he or Slatestar went to the Moonpool, but that was different. Those herbs were specifically for travelling. He had never attempted to transport his supplies before.

Luckily, Galepaw and Mousepaw were there to help him. Though he knew both of them were bent on becoming warriors, he couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to have an apprentice. He wasn't ready for one, that was for sure. He could barely manage himself as it was. For a moment, the brown tabby wondered if Birchcloud was planning to take on apprentice. Though he knew it would happen sometime, whether now or later, he couldn't help the small surge of jealousy that rose up in his throat like bile.

He didn't want to be replaced.

Slatestar was finishing his announcement. "We'll leave tomorrow by sunhigh. That gives us a day to prepare for the journey. It shouldn't be too long or difficult – we're only going up behind ShadowClan territory. When WindClan and the rogues arrive at the empty camp, hopefully they'll end up fighting each other in the confusion."

"When will we return?" called out Grasscloud. The she-cat looked confident in her leader.

Slatestar looked over at her. "We'll send out scouts the morning after the battle. They'll tell us if it's safe to return."

Kitetail nodded to himself. It was a smart plan. Evacuate the camp and let the two fighting factions run into each other. Hopefully, in the confusion, no one would notice that ThunderClan was gone until it was too late. They would need to disguise their scent before they left, of course. Kitetail had a supply of garlic stashed in his den for that purpose.

After Slatestar returned to his den, the cats resumed their duties. Larchstripe and Elmheart went ahead to make sure their evacuation site was secure and see if they could start setting up makeshift dens. Others started hunting, making sure they could bring enough prey with them in case it wasn't safe to hunt.

Kitetail noticed Beechclaw slipping into the nursery. Against his better judgement, he followed the tom, padding across the clearing and pausing just outside the nursery entrance, where he was out of view. Knowing what he was doing was wrong, the brown tabby listened in as the warrior spoke with his mate.

"What are you so worried about?" asked Auburnfur teasingly. "Do you have ants under your fur? I know you're worried, but Slatestar's idea is good. This way, we'll kill two birds with one stone."

"I don't like it," said Beechclaw darkly. "What if the kits aren't strong enough to make the journey? You know how Breezekit is..."

There was a hint of pain in Auburnfur's voice. "Breezekit hasn't had... an episode... for a moon now. He'll be fine."

"Fine? In the cold? Away from home?" Beechclaw was growing angry. "The kits deserve better than this. They deserve safety. We could give it to them, but instead Slatestar is insisting on taking it away!"

"Even if Slatestar had given Alder up, WindClan would still be attacking," said Auburnfur patiently. "What would you have ThunderClan do?"

Beechclaw snorted. "First, I would give up that good-for-nothing milk-gut loner, and his friends, too. They should never have come here. Then I would have us attack WindClan and take them by surprise before they attack us at our camp. The kits would never be in danger."

"Beechclaw..." Auburnfur's voice was pained. "Please. Slatestar knows what he's doing."

"A million things could go wrong with his plan," said Beechclaw. "We should take matters into our own paws and fight WindClan on our terms."

"That's traitorous talk," she told him. "I know you don't agree. I understand – but we have to trust in Slatestar."

There was the sound of Beechclaw's tail whipping hard against the ground. "I don't want to put you or the kits in harm's way! That's all!"

"I know," mewed Auburnfur quietly. "I know, Beechclaw. I love you."

"I love you too," the tom mewed,voice softening.

Kitetail turned away, skin heating up beneath his fur. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop on such an intimate moment. And yet... he had been right. If there was one cat in ThunderClan who would go against Slatestar's orders, it was Beechclaw. He wanted to tell Slatestar what the lean warrior had said, but Beechclaw was one of ThunderClan's top warriors, and Kitetail was merely an adoptee from ShadowClan. He didn't think Beechclaw would turn on the Clan – he was far too loyal for that – but it was something that he needed to keep an eye on, just in case.

He was just back at his den when Beechclaw walked out of the nursery. The tabby made a beeline straight for Thickfur. Kitetail's heart lurched. If there was one cat who hated Alder more than Beechclaw, it was Thickfur. The medicine cat watched as the two warriors padded out of camp together, and, heart pounding in his chest, went to follow them.

.

They didn't go far. It was evident that Beechclaw had asked Thickfur out on a hunting mission, but there was a second purpose behind it: to talk about Slatestar's decision. Kitetail made sure to stay downwind of them, but close enough to still hear their voices. He stayed crouched behind a towering oak, its bark peeling and the cracks lined with snow.

"I don't see what there is to talk about," said Thickfur gruffly. "It's Slatestar's call."

"Think about it," urged Beechclaw. "We could handle WindClan on our own. It would be much easier if the rogues were no longer a threat."

"I'm not going against Slatestar," repeated Thickfur. Despite his hard exterior, he was stubbornly loyal. Kitetail felt new affection toward the grumpy grey tabby. Dawnpaw had always portrayed him as a cruel tom, but perhaps he wasn't that bad.

"Come on, Thickfur," mewed Beechclaw, "you hate Alder. Dawnpaw isn't safe with him around, especially since he brought the rogues. It won't be easy to evacuate her."

"Leave Dawnpaw out of this," said Thickfur. "Aren't we supposed to be hunting?"

Beechclaw pressed on. "Alder likes to hunt alone. Let's find him when he's out and bring him to the rogues. It would be easy. Slatestar wouldn't lose his precious honour."

"And when he finds out it was us?" challenged Thickfur. "What then?"

"Who says he has to?" asked Beechclaw. "We can make it look like Alder turned himself in. Just say he talked to you about it before he left."

"Beechclaw..." Thickfur's voice sounded like it was being pushed out through his teeth.

"So that's it then?" sneered Beechclaw. "You value Alder's life more than Dawnpaw's?"

"No!" Thickfur was angry now. "That's not it at all."

"That's exactly it," insisted Beechclaw. "Do it my way, Thickfur. We'll protect ThunderClan, protect Dawnpaw and the kits, and Slatestar can keep his pride."

There was a long silence and Kitetail found himself holding his breath. Beechclaw had a point, he knew that, but he could never condone going against his leader's orders. But would Slatestar believe him if he told the grey tom about this conversation? It was Kitetail's word against the leader's son and another warrior. If Thickfur agreed to this... he would need more proof.

He found himself silently begging Thickfur to disagree and to rat Beechclaw out himself. Do what's right, he urged Thickfur. Please.

"I'll think about it," said Thickfur, at long last. "Now, let's hunt. That's what we came out here for, right?"

Kitetail let out a huge sigh, relief filling his body. He needed to get back to camp.

XX XX XX XX

A/N: Quicker update than last time, am I right? To everyone who reviewed last chapter: wow. You're still reading. You are fantastic. Anyway, I'm sorry this one goes on a bit long. I got inspired near the end. It's neat to see Thickfur from another character's point of view. Kitetail doesn't entirely trust him. As for Beechclaw... he's not a bad cat, but I'll let you draw your own conclusions. Anyway, I'm hoping to update again near Christmas time as a present for all of you faithful readers!

This chapter is basically the whole reaction to Slatestar's decision and the rogues, plus the threat of WindClan being thrown in there. Next chapter is back to Dawnpaw and Sootclaw!

Anyways, my exams went well, two of my wisdom teeth are out, and I'm currently in the car on the way home from Toronto. There's a huge winter storm (end of the world?) and I'll be stuck in here for a couple more hours. That's plenty of writing time so hopefully I can get the next chapter underway. I want to do something cute/special with the characters for Christmas, though I don't know how... a drawing of Thickfur in a Santa hat? I should probably start using that blog I made for this series at some point, so some artwork might be good for that.

Last point: I don't know what to call this trilogy! I don't want to call it the Pawn of the Stars trilogy or whatever. It needs a better name that encapsulates what it's about. If you have any ideas, let me know in your review!

monkeyCsaw: You're too kind! I'm glad you like Grainstar – he's actually going to tie with Kitetail's story at some point, that should be interesting. I mean, what? No spoilers here.

justsmile77: Thanks! Yeah, Grainstar's reappearance definitely has something to do with the darkness and what's going on down in the Dark Forest.

zestia240: Thanks for the review! Are you sure Grainstar's been "alive"? ;)

Honeycloud of RiverClan: Haha yeah, Kitetail's growing up, for sure. Thanks for the wonderful review!

Blackish: Thanks for the critique, as always! I know the scene was a bit rushed. I spent some time in this chapter explaining Slatestar's motives, so hopefully it makes it clearer why his decision was so quick. As for the rogues... they're confident, and as nasty as they can be, they still don't want an unnecessary fight. They would have preferred just taking Alder over fighting a Clan.

Coqui's Song: Nope, you're not allowed to die. This update is a little quicker in order to cater to your sensitive health. (: Thanks for reviewing, you were missed!

Frostfeather: Nope, no time machine wizardry (though I'll keep that in mind for future plot twists... kidding. Maybe.) Yeah, Alder's spoiled. Not a bad cat but – you called it, spoiled. Thanks for the great review, I love hearing from you!

Fawndapple1359: Wow :S That's a really wonderful compliment! I'm happy to hear that! As for Dawnpaw, she's coming next chapter.

Thanks for reading and please review!

PV :)